


Honey and the Bee

by Cantatrice18



Category: Matilda (1996), Matilda - Roald Dahl
Genre: Gen, Missing Scene, Rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-19
Updated: 2012-09-19
Packaged: 2017-11-14 14:52:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/516542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cantatrice18/pseuds/Cantatrice18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One day Ms. Honey is missing from class, and Matilda is determined to find out why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honey and the Bee

The bell had rung, the clock read ten minutes past the hour, and still there was no sign of Ms. Honey. Her students muttered anxiously to one another as they sat at their desks. She had never been late before, not once. Her bright smile greeted them each morning as they entered the classroom, their reward for braving the corridors of Crunchem Hall. “You don’t think something’s happened to her, do you?” Lavender asked, her little voice trembling. 

“My mom got into a car crash once,” Bruce whispered. “Maybe that’s why she’s not here.”

Amanda looked as though she was about to cry. Matilda stood and went over to her, putting an arm around her shoulders. “She wasn’t in a car crash; she walks to school every morning, through the woods. I’m sure she’ll be here any-”

The sound of the heavy wooden door swinging open made them all look up hopefully, but it was none other than Ms. Trunchbull that entered. She had a gleeful smile on her face as she crossed slowly to the desk and sat. “You. Matilda. Back to your desk, now.” 

Matilda obeyed, scowling, and Trunchbull laughed nastily. “You children will have a real lesson today, not a coddling fairy tale read-along like you usually get from that daydreaming chit.”

“Where’s Ms. Honey?” Matilda asked, and Trunchbull glared at her.

“Never you mind. She’s safe.” Trunchbull’s smile returned, even nastier than before. “Well, almost.” She looked around the room and her face darkened. “What’re all these, then?” she asked, gesturing to the children’s art projects that were displayed proudly throughout the room. No one answered, and Ms. Trunchbull stood, cracking her riding crop against the desk loudly enough to make everyone jump. Trunchbull walked slowly to the bulletin board that had a group of brightly colored drawings on it, taking it down carefully and holding it between two fingers as if worried it might contaminate her. “Who drew this?”

Slowly, apprehensively, Lavender raised her hand. “I d-did, Ms. Trunchbull.”

Trunchbull’s eyes gleamed as she walked leisurely to stand by Lavender’s desk. “You did, did you? And what exactly is this supposed to be?” 

“It’s an elephant,” said Lavender, “We were learning about animals, and where they live, and –“

“This,” Truchbull gestured to the paper in her hand, “This is supposed to be an elephant? This blob, this misshapen thing?” 

Lavender nodded. “Yes, Ms. Trunchbull.”

“This is trash,” Trunchbull yelled, and the class jumped again, “This is time-wasting garbage.” With a single stroke she ripped the drawing in two, depositing the crumpled pieces on Lavender’s desk. 

Matilda saw the tears welling in Lavender’s eyes, and she’d had just about enough. At her command, the pictures on the board began to flap as though in a high wind. Trunchbull jumped, backing away from them, and Matilda took the opportunity to dart from her seat through the still open door. She’d recognized the sneer on Trunchbull’s face; she’s seen it plenty of times before. It was a very specific look, and could mean only one thing. Matilda crept down the hallways, making no noise, until she reached Trunchbull’s office. The door was locked, but a look and a thought were all it took to undo the latch. The door swung open, revealing Trunchbull’s lair. The sight of the grey, forbidding walls lined with shot-put trophies sent a shiver down Matilda’s spine, but she ignored it. Walking purposefully across the room to the infamous Chokie, she laid a hand against the door. “Ms. Honey? Ms. Honey, are you there?”

There was a moment of complete silence, and then a soft, familiar voice drifted from the tiny room. “Matilda? Is that you?”

“I’ll get you out, Ms. Honey.”

“Oh no, Matilda, you mustn’t. If she comes back, and catches you, you’ll be in such trouble.”

Matilda shrugged. “I’m not worried. She’s a bit distracted right now.” Concentrating on the lock, she twisted her hand as though using an invisible key. The door swung open with a creak to reveal Ms. Honey. The young woman was shaking slightly from the effort of holding herself away from the nails and broken glass that lined the Chokie’s walls. The improvised torture chamber was designed for children, and there was barely enough room for Ms. Honey to breathe. Matilda could see the snags on Ms. Honey’s skirt and blouse where the fabric had caught on the nails. The sight made her feel an anger greater than any she’d felt before. She reached a hand towards her battered teacher, and Ms. Honey took it gratefully. With careful steps, she made her way out of the closet until she could collapse onto the floor. Matilda sat beside her, hugging her. “How long have you been in there?”

“Just a few hours,” Ms. Honey whispered, looking down. “I’ve been in longer before, when I was a child.”

Matilda hugged her tighter. “She’ll never hurt you again. I’ll see to it.”

“Matilda, please, don’t do anything to anger her. She shows no mercy to anyone who dares stand up to her. I’d hate to see you in that horrible room. Better it be me, who has experience with it.” She smiled sadly. “I know how many nails there are, and precisely where they’re located. I’ll be fine, I promise. But I have to go back in. You understand, don’t you? If she finds me gone she’ll be even angrier, and she’ll conduct a witch hunt to find out who helped me.”

“You expect me to just leave you?”

Ms. Honey nodded. “It would help me greatly if you would go and look after your classmates. They must be so scared.” 

Matilda looked mutinous, but she knew there was nothing she could do to change Ms. Honey’s mind. The woman stood, turning to face the Chokie once more. “Once I’m inside, lock the door again. With luck she’ll grow tired of teaching, and I’ll be back in class by lunchtime.”

She took a step towards the Chokie, but Matilda reached out and caught her arm. “Wait.”

Ms. Honey sighed. “Matilda, please…”

But Matilda wasn’t listening. She was staring into the dark hole of a room and as Ms. Honey watched in shock the nails bent in on themselves, curling up until not one sharp point remained. The glass pieces clattered to the floor, and the shards swept themselves into a neat pile in the corner. Ms. Honey gazed down at Matilda, and the girl met her eyes stubbornly. “Now it doesn’t matter how many nails there are. Nothing in there can hurt you, not anymore.” 

Ms. Honey knelt and placed a gentle kiss atop Matilda’s head. “Thank you, dearest. Now hurry, before she notices you’re gone.”

She stepped back into the now defunct Chokie, and Matilda reluctantly locked the door. Leaning against it, she could see the barest hint of Ms. Honey’s skin and pale hair through the keyhole. She felt the anger settle inside of her, a permanent source of rage for her power to use. “Don’t worry, Ms. Honey. She’ll never hurt you again. I promise.” 

Turning, Matilda headed back to her classroom, walking with new determination and purpose. It was time Ms. Trunchbull learned just who she was dealing with.


End file.
